


Escalation

by bordle_OWO



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Comatose Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Somnophilia, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27340441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bordle_OWO/pseuds/bordle_OWO
Summary: Martin is very well aware that this is wrong, but Jon's just as likely to not wake up as he is to survive, and he probably won't remember anyway.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 4
Kudos: 110





	Escalation

**Author's Note:**

> This is just straight-up badwrong so read the tags and take care.
> 
> terms for Jon used are:tits, chest, cock, dick, cunt, folds, possibly others I've forgotten but i think that's the just.
> 
> lmk if i need to tag anything else

Listen, Martin was well aware that what he was doing was wrong in so many ways, but Jon was in a coma, his heart wasn’t beating, and there was a decent chance he would never wake up. That was horrible of course, but also at least then there would be no chance of him remembering anything that Martin’s doing to him in this vulnerable state.

He’s mostly resigned himself to Jon being dead at this point; he’s grieved for him, grieved for his mother, and now he is just over all of the nonsense his life has become. 

It started one day when he visited Jon’s bedside in long term care. He had looked peaceful, as if he were sleeping rather than in a coma. Martin had long since indulged himself in grasping Jon’s hand in his as he watched over his boss’ catatonic body. He needed the comfort, and it wasn’t like Jon could complain.

That was the sort of thing that led to the current situation. He had started by just allowing himself to touch Jon past what was generally considered normal between coworkers, even work friends. He would lay his head on Jon’s side or thighs. He would assist the nurses in their care of Jon’s body. 

He had seen Jon naked. He had helped move his limp joints through physical therapy enough that he could practically pass as one of the trained nurses by now. 

He had put his hands in Jon’s long, wavy hair to help clean it.

He had allowed himself to pass his hands casual over Jon’s chest and ass. Maybe more than once.

But it’s okay because Jon is in a coma.

And maybe he’s allowed his touch to linger on his small tits or genitals once or twice. Or every couple of visits for a few weeks now. 

But could anyone blame him? The man he’s in love with is passed out in front of him, face unmarred by the paranoia and stress that had been haunting him for months, and he can’t notice or care about a few small boundaries being crossed. 

If he was never going to wake up, it wouldn't matter at all because he would never know, and if he did wake up, there was as good a chance as any he wouldn't remember. If he did? Well… Martin would burn that bridge when he got to it.

But now here he was with a finger inside of Jon’s cunt.

It was so tight and so warm around his digit, despite everything. Martin was so hard in his slacks.

Jon had just been so beautiful that day, his lips were slightly more plush than their normal thinness and when Martin had moved him to help avoid bedsores, his cunt was right there, tempting him. Martin was sure anyone would have been tempted.

Martin hadn’t felt any human touch for weeks now other than Jon, not even a handshake, and he was starting to feel desperate for it. 

He glanced around for any nearby nurses. He was generally confident in his understanding of their schedule by now, and Jon’s room was as private as a hospital room could be, but it was better to be safe.

When he had pushed aside the hospital robe Jon was in, he almost gasped. Seeing Jon’s dick and labia were nothing new to him, but he was so aroused now he could barely breathe.

He reached a shaky hand out to lay a finger over Jon’s dick; it was just big enough for the head to slightly peek out from its hood when unaroused. Martin didn’t even feel in control of his hand as he ran his fingers gently, then with more pressure, over Jon’s cock.

Eventually, he noticed that even despite the coma, Jon seemed to respond to sensation because he was getting wetter.

Martin groaned slightly and had to use his other hand to adjust himself in his pants before trailing his hand down between Jon’s folds. He was wet and hot already, and Martin was trailing his pointer finger through the slick and sliding it inside before he could think better of it.

Martin felt like he was going to burst as he gently moved his finger in and out, just centimeters at first. He used his unoccupied hand to inelegantly open his fly to provide some semblance of relief to his straining cock. He might just come from the feeling of his finger in Jon’s wet hole.

Martin didn’t last long at all, unsurprisingly. He continued to gently thrust his finger in and out of Jon’s stunning cunt as he took himself in hand, barely managing a couple strokes before he came.

He didn’t stop fingering Jon yet, though. He continued to explore his passage as he came down from the high of endorphins. He brought the hand covered in his own cum up to rub against Jon’s dick. 

If it weren’t for refractory periods, Martin was sure he would come again just from the sight of his come spread over Jon’s cock.

Eventually, Jon’s walls tightened around Martin’s finger and his dick twitched, likely signaling an orgasm, and Martin stilled his hands. 

When he realized what he had just done, he panicked a little. A lot.

He eventually managed to clean up all evidence of his, oh god, probably a crime, definitely a crime, before anyone came in. He wiped up all of his come and all the slick from Jon and hid the tissues in his pocket to reduce the amount of evidence. 

Jon’s folds were slightly red, but not so much as to be noticeable, and either way, Martin didn’t think there was anything he could do to fix that.

He ended up staying until when he normally left so as to avoid any suspicion, but he was practically shaking from anxiety the whole time and the whole way home.

He didn’t get much sleep that night, but he did jack off to the memory of his finger inside of Jon. Three times.

Martin tried his best not to think about what he did. He managed okay during the day, but at night he would find his hand wrapped around his cock at least once, losing himself in the memory of what he’d done. He would also find his normal fantasies trending towards hospital rooms and unconscious partners. He tried not to think about that.

Martin knew there was probably something wrong with him. Not only had he molested his boss, who probably wouldn’t have consented even if he were conscious and could give consent, while he was in a coma, but he kept aching to do it again, to do more, to bury himself in Jon’s unconscious body and stay there.

Despite his trepidation, he still found himself by Jon’s bedside again, attempting to seem normal as best he could. 

He managed three visits before he found himself doing it again.

He had a finger inside of Jon and his other hand wrapped around his dick while chanting in his head that Jon would never know when he realized there was no fighting this. He stopped resisting his urges.

He would regularly find himself three fingers deep in Jon’s cunt, thumb on his dick, as he furiously jacked off at least once each visit to Jon’s hospital room.

He would occasionally take his slick covered fingers and either lick Jon’s natural lubrication off of them, or he would spread it over Jon’s unmoving lips and kiss it away. 

Martin eventually made his way to eating Jon out, only slightly unnerved by the lack of reaction from his partner other than occasional twitches of his muscles when Martin hit a good spot or he came.

He actually came to appreciate his time raping- Martin didn’t like to think of it like that but there was no better word- Jon. There was nothing else to think about other than his own and Jon’s pleasure. Jon could never reject him like this. Jon couldn’t leave him like this.

It was the one place where he could simply leave it all behind. No Elias, no Peter, no creepy fears or dead friends, just his fingers or face buried between Jon’s thighs as he chased some sort of release.

He gradually became more confident, stripping Jon down more and more each visit, massaging and groping his delicate tits and thin hips. He would allow himself to get on the bed for a better angle if he knew there wasn’t a nurse visit for a while. 

He would come on Jon’s stomach, tits, and, on one spontaneous occasion, his face. 

He would open Jon’s mouth and press the head of his dick against Jon’s slack tongue, spread his precum over his lips.

After weeks of repeatedly using his comatose boss for sexual gratification, he worked his way up to full penetration. He planned for days, feeling slightly more guilty than usual as if he could have excused his multiple assaults on a crime of passion at this point, acquiring condoms and making sure he knew which nurses were on rotation at his chosen time and which would be laxer about their visits if Martin was there to take care of Jon.

Martin was almost amused at the irony of that trust, but that feeling usually led to guilt, so he avoided it.

When his chosen day came, he was half-hard the entire trip to the hospital. He had to think about the worms to get himself flaccid enough to enter a hospital with any sort of decorum.

When he got to Jon’s room, he spent some time just waiting, his jacket in his lap for when the first nurse arrived to check on Jon. The nurse’s visit went as normal, just checking up on Jon’s vitals and the rate at which various fluids were draining through his various IVs, and whether his trachea tube was still functioning properly. 

Martin waited maybe a minute after he left before he was undressing Jon and pulling his own pants down just low enough to free his rapidly hardening dick.

Seeing Jon spread out for him was like he was finally safe. He had finally found someplace he could feel good and no one would leave him or reject him. Jon wouldn’t look at him like a disappointment, because he couldn’t.

He could barely keep himself in check while he thoroughly prepped Jon. The lack of muscle tension helped some, but he was still relatively unstretched.

Martin got three fingers in maybe a bit quickly, but the nurses had failed to notice more, so he felt safe enough to finally rip open the condom package and roll it over his leaking dick.

The first swipe of the head of his dick through Jon’s folds, hitting Jon’s own dick as he positioned himself at his entrance, was already practically overwhelming. 

Martin began to press his dick inside of Jon, and if he still believed in a god after everything with the fears, he would swear that this is what it felt like to reach heaven.

Jon’s cunt was almost too tight to thrust into, so Martin had to press his way in minute increments. It would've been necessary even without the resistance because Martin was sure he was about to come right then and there.

Gradually forcing his way deeper, Martin panted. When he made it to the hilt, he paused for only a moment before beginning to thrust lightly. While he knew he had a decent amount of time and he wouldn't last long, he wasn’t willing to take his chances.

It didn’t take long before Martin was coming, filling up the condom he is kind of ashamed to acknowledge he wouldn’t be wearing if they weren’t in a hospital where other people have access to Jon. He pants as he feels himself soften inside of Jon, slipping out eventually.

He presses a chaste kiss to Jon’s lips in thanks. This has been one of the best things to happen to him in years.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Inevitability](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28497648) by Anonymous 




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